


Phantom Signal

by RobinsonsWereHere



Category: Lost in Space (TV 2018)
Genre: (they're still smart tho), Angst and Feels, F/M, Feels, Not Proofread, Oneshot, Post-Season/Series 02, astrophysicists don't come at me, don and john are himbos, emotional maureen, i made up the science, maureen is in charge, she deserves some time to have a breakdown, that might be another fic, they can't be in charge of anything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:15:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24916699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinsonsWereHere/pseuds/RobinsonsWereHere
Summary: Set immediately after the s2 finale. Don, John and Maureen set out to follow the only trail they have-- the radio signal. But there's something not right about it...
Relationships: John Robinson/Maureen Robinson, Maureen Robinson/Grant Kelly
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26





	Phantom Signal

**Author's Note:**

> Coming back to my ROOTS! This is the first fandom I wrote & published fic for, and I'm glad to be back. I feel like I've really grown as a writer and I hope I'll be writing more fic, porbably oneshots set during or after season 2, soon! But in terms of this fic, the only thing I really wanna say is I made up all the science. I made it up. Pls suspend your disbelief and enjoy the feels!! Besides, who knows how anything will work in the future?

When they’re away from the wreckage, when the flash of the transport Jupiter entering the rift has long faded, Don cuts the engine of the J2. They don’t know how long they’ll be drifting for; he might as well save fuel while they have it.

The bridge is silent, John and Maureen flanking him, probably holding hands or something behind his back. Don heaves a sigh. “So, what do we do now?”

“We go find our kids,” John growls.

“We don’t have a rift generator. We barely have a functional engine,” Don points out, scowling at the instrument panel.

“It’s better than nothing,” John argues. “We can follow the same radio signal they did, right?”

“Yeah, I guess…” Don pulls up the screen. “Maureen? Want me to set a course?”

“It’s the only hope we’ve got,” she says. Her voice is suspiciously shaky, so Don keeps his eyes on the screen and sets the course without turning around. Staring at the signal displayed in front of him, he notices something off. “Huh.”

“What, ‘huh’?” John leans over his shoulder to see, which feels more than a little intimidating.

“Uh, this signal looks weird,” he says.

John scoffs. “How does a radio signal ‘look’ weird?”

“Well, y’know, there are actually visual cues to the source in every signal, I had a friend who worked the docking ports and she got to where she could pick out the signal of individual jupiters, I’ve never had the patience but you _can_ learn to identify a ship from just a signal--”

“Don,” Maureen interrupts, “what is it about _this_ signal that looks weird?”

“It’s faint,” he says, “I mean, duh, but it’s not faint like it happened a long time ago… see how it’s repeating? If we’re following the leftovers from a previous journey of the _Resolute,_ it should be decaying slightly with every repeat. But it’s not… this signal isn’t faint because it’s old, or far away, it’s faint because-- well, I don’t know, but I would guess it’s that there’s only one or two sources broadcasting it.”

Maureen is close enough that her hair brushes against his arm when she shakes her head. “No, that’s not possible. The _Resolute_ is the only human signal in space.”

Don gestures at the screen. “Then what’s this!?”

“How are we supposed to know!?” John throws up his hands, pacing away from the console, and then back again. Maureen gives him one of their psychic communication looks, and he huffs and stalks further away. She sighs and takes the chair next to Don, reaching out to swipe the panel with the signal over to her station.

“Let’s see…” Don watches as she isolates a clip, which makes sense-- it’s easier to study the structure without the miniscule changes every time the signal repeats. “Wait… wait, no…”

Don hears the clunk of John’s boots coming towards them; apparently he’s stopped pouting. “Maureen?”

“I know this signal,” she breathes. Her voice is hardly above a whisper, and there’s a vulnerability to her expression that Don has never seen before. “This is-- this is the _Fortuna.”_

“Woah.” Don knows the ship, who doesn’t? At the very least, any and all of the _Resolute_ crew learned fast about the deep space exploration vessel that had disappeared mysteriously nearly two decades ago.

Come to think of it, the _Resolute_ might be the next _Fortuna._

Except it won’t, because they’re still alive, still fighting to get to Alpha Centauri. And because it looks like the _Fortuna_ might not be missing after all.

“That’s insane,” he says, when he’s registered all of this. “That’s-- that’s not possible. It can’t be.”

“It is,” Maureen says, almost cutting him off. “I know that signal. I searched for it for years, even with-- even with everything going on, and with the limited capabilities of Earth’s signal range. It took me so long to give up.” She shakes her head, her hand coming up over her mouth. “I can’t believe I gave up.”

Don gives John a worried look. “Do you know what she’s talking about?”

“It was before we met,” he says gruffly. Don squints, noticing he didn’t outright say ‘no’.

“Huh,” Don laughs. “That’s weird to think about, y’know, I’ve always sorta thought of you two as a singular entity…”

“Don, cut it out,” John says gruffly.

“Okay, geez,” he grumbles. “Just trying to lighten the mood.”

The mood is definitely not lightened, but even Don doesn’t dare break it again. “So…” he says slowly, “Maureen… you’re sure that’s the _Fortuna?”_

“I-- I… yes,” she says, her voice hollow, her words ending in a sigh. “That signal matches the logged signal set for the deep space vessel _Fortuna,_ captained by--” she breaks off, almost as if she’s choking on her words. “Captained by Grant Kelly.”

Don frowns; the name sounds familiar. “Grant Kelly?”

Maureen nods, still staring blankly at the signal. “He was my-- we were--” she swallows. “He’s Judy’s biological father.”

_Oh._

Don, for once, goes completely still.

_Damn._

That explains… every weird bit of the past ten minutes.

Well, except for the existence of the _Fortuna._

He stares at the signal. The impossible signal. It slowly sinks in.

That’s not a past trail of the _Resolute._

That’s something entirely bigger… especially for the Robinsons.

As he’s processing this, he realizes something else.

“Hey,” he says.

John and Maureen both turn to look at him.

“This is-- this is the only signal we found, right?”

“Yeah,” John says, frowning in confusion.

Don doesn’t even get to make his next point before Maureen gasps, the screen flickering to a different display as her hand smacks against the control panel. “Oh my god,” she breathes. “John. The _kids.”_

John’s face falls. Maureen has gone pale. Don swallows against the taste of bile.

“If that’s the only signal, that’s where we sent the transport Jupiter,” he says.

“But it’s not… it’s not Alpha Centauri,” John adds.

Maureen, for the first time Don’s seen, looks honestly afraid. “We didn’t send our children home,” she whispers. “We sent them to an interstellar ship wreck.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed, or come find me at bijulesohara on tumblr!


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